


You touch, I Touch

by OrangeSprout



Category: Mewgulf, เกลียดนักมาเป็นที่รักกันซะดีๆ | TharnType: The Series (TV) RPF
Genre: Gulf has a confused interior, It's kind of cute, M/M, but a soft uncaring exterior, gulf ponders, oh Gulfie, sexual tension Gulf isn't ready to process yet, they make eyes at each other in the end, this is my take on Gulf inner monologue about Mew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24749014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeSprout/pseuds/OrangeSprout
Summary: Gulf wasn't sulking, he's just taking a moment to ponder about life and the universe (Read Mew).  ok, Gulf was thinking about Mew and why Mew wasn't touching him.  But that's totally not sulking -it really was though.
Relationships: Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat/Gulf Kanawut Traipipattanapong
Comments: 6
Kudos: 165





	You touch, I Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Did some minor grammar and syntax changes.  
>  Just realized the begin is a little rough to read and I might scrap the whole thing because it bothers me. (8-20-20)

Gulf let out a tiny huff, rubbing his arms under the blanket. Not because he was cold, no, he was… itchy?

Not that Gulf was itchy, he wasn’t. Well kind of.

More like he had an itch. 

Why did he have an itch and what was the itch for? Well, those are the question Gulf really wanted to figure out. Those same questions he’d been asking himself for the past couple days, no scratch that weeks now and he’s pretty sure he has an answer but he also really doesn’t because he’s not emotionally prepared for the answer. 

He huffs again letting his hands fall to his lap as he sits alone on the couch, watching everyone mill about the room laughing and talking. Which is normal. It’s normal for him to sit off to the side, everyone knows he keeps to himself until needed, when their ready or when they want to, they come to him and he’ll join in conversation then. But until that time, he'll stay here, on the couch. And that's ok.

Or at least it was, until Mew took him under his wing, metaphorically and maybe a little literally, and started to bring him into the conversation. Mew was normally in the middle of the talking. He went to where the people were, he brought laughter like a gift. When Gulf was with him, they were _in_ the conversation.

When Gulf was alone, he was here, on the sidelines. He was ok being on the sidelines, that wasn’t the problem. That wasn’t the _itch._

It was a workshop, one of the few that basically everyone involved in the project was involved in, so the room was adequately packed. Which was another reason Gulf is waiting for people to come to him, interaction was.. tiresome to say the least. He wouldn’t really classify himself as an introvert but he probably leans more to that than extravert. Plus it takes him a while to warm up to people. He has gotten good at pretending, at least when he’s got the power of Mew beside him.

Gulf leans back into the cushion - they were lumpy and not that soft but it was fine- pulling his blue blanket to his chest. His eyes following Mew as he walks across the room to talk to Mild and Kaownah. 

The itch was back. (Or rather he seems to be more aware of the itch in the presence of Mew.) He could feel it, right there under his skin. Crawling and pulling and just all over being a distraction to his otherwise sleep-filled time. He couldn’t understand it. Or rather he refused to understand it so that he didn’t have to accept its meaning. It’s part of his oblivious persona. And quite frankly, if he could purposely be oblivious to the itch he would and sometimes did.

Now though, was not one of those times.

It had been happening more and more recently too. Which made it extra difficult to ignore.

He would be fine. Everything would be fine at least until it wasn’t. He’s not really sure what will happen in the future to the ever-present and slowly growing tug of his soul. He’s normally a go with the flow sort of person and this blatant defiance of going against the flow was really messing with his groove to quote a certain emperor from that Disney movie. 

It’s not fair that the more he ignores the itch the more he feels it. He feels the ache in his chest, the cold over his skin, the somber wind in his ears. He can practically hear the melodramatic music playing as the background movie in his own personal telenovela. At least that meant he was one of the leads in the show right? Only the leads get the really good music. (it’s not true but he’s going to keep pretending that it is because you know the most oblivious people are the happy ones right?... He was obliviously optimistic. )

He pulls the blanket closer, as tight as he could make it on his own, rubbing his arm absently. His head lulls on the back of the couch but his eyes stayed focused on Mew. 

Fucking Mew.

Mew talking. Laughing. Engaging in interaction with everyone in the room like the social butterfly filled with charisma that he was. 

And Gulf, he was on the couch, alone. Stupid itch. Stupid Mew. He wanted to sleep.

He pulls his feet up onto the couch tucking the under him so he can lean against the arm of the couch. He knew part -ok a very large and significant part, so much so that it might even be part of the main problem- of the reason for his unrest at the moment stemmed from Mew being ... there and not … here. He tries not to pout but he knows he’s not doing a very good job at it as he feels his lower lip puff out. He’s definitely pouting, and anyone within viewing distance could probably see it too.

He realized a little while ago that if they were in the same room together there was this… beacon, a sign inside of him that said _comfort is near. Go to it. You belong there_. In the beginning, it was a soft call, like the whispering breeze but then the more times they spent together, the more time Gulf spends in the rays of joy and sunshine that is Mews smile, wrapped in the sturdy roots that are his arms pulled against the solid chest that only knew warmth radiating from his core, the beacon became a siren. Both the loud annoying kind that warns you for tsunamis or twisters but also the kind in the waters of the ocean, getting louder and louder the closer you got until you've wrecked into the rocky cliffs, only to be drug down into the endless pits of darkness that are his eyes by the treacherous needs of the human soul. His mortal soul at the ever beckoning call, a call he likes to ignore but can’t.

Gulf exhales but its more like a sigh with meaning.

Mew had become his habit. 

He knew from the first moment he saw Mew in that crowded room at auditions that there was something about Mew, something that called for him. And he fell for it. He fell for the call. He fell for everything about Mew in seconds. His soft caring eyes, his cheerful laughter that made you want to join in, his smile that melted even the iciest of hearts.

Mew wasn’t perfect, not by any means but he was human. A beautiful, kind, and caring human. Who gave the best hugs. Grand 'A' hugs. No one who’s gotten a hug from Mew would deny that fact.

There he said it.

He said it and is maybe trying to decide if he wants to take it back but it’s only to himself so he’ll let it slide. He gave the best hugs because everything about Mew felt like home regardless of if you knew him for two seconds, two weeks, or almost two years.

His theory is that Mews hugs were the best because of his strong arms, wrapping around you like a warm blanket, his steady breathing coupled with his heartbeat (much like the beating drum from the Pocahontas song). Then there was pat pat pat to his tummy like music that relaxed him more than any repetitive movement should. But it did. No matter the situation one simple touch from Mew and he immediately felt the calming effects and the closer they were the better he felt. As long as Mew was close he felt protected and safe. Mew would guide him. Care for him. Love him.

Oh gosh, Mew had the biggest heart and Gulf wanted to dive in and stay forever. To ask Mew to be there for him and with him, forever. 

Maybe that was too much to put on one person, to expect so much of them with nothing to give in return but he did. He except and wanted it. He was selfish that way.

He blames Mew and his vendetta against personal space. Gulf has developed a habit. A habit of Mew never being too far away from him, always within reach and most of the time touching in some aspect. On the days when they were apart, he felt it. Deep in his core, he felt it. It was silly and he kind of hated it because that’s not fair to Mew who already gives so much to him. For him to ask for more, to ask for calls when they couldn’t see each other, to ask for a time when Mew wasn’t busy under guise of playing mobile games together, to ask for food dates because he missed Mew.

It’s weird to have a habit form because of some else. Gulf never imagined there a time when he would prefer closer over further away. He has never been the touchy type. Nothing past the normal stuff of friendship. The usual pats of the back or sitting close when talking or even the occasional arm over the shoulder. Friend stuff. He preferred not to do it himself but sometimes he let others close the distance. With his ex’s, he was touchy enough, and it was always a little weird. He just preferred distance because he was never good at initiating touch. Most of the time he didn’t know how to. And it had always been fine. No one questioned him or thought it was weird or tried to change it. It was fine.

But Mew. 

Mew is ... the best hugger. 

Mew loved touching and being close and even though in the beginning he asked before doing anything, he was still significantly more touching than Gulf was used to. 

But he never disliked it. He'd never even thought to. The touches, Mew, had always been more than welcome in Gulf’s mind.

After the almost year and a half that he’d known Mew, he could name every flaw the other had, and not one of them was enough for him to feel anything less for Mew than he did in those first few moments of meeting.

Happiness and safety.

Maybe that’s why the habit he’s formed has created an itch. An itch saying that he wants Mew close, he wants his warmth, safety, and home within hugging distance no matter the time or the place.

How does he even begin to tell Mew this? The truth is, he doesn’t. 

He just ignores the itch until Mew decides he wants to perform the lifesaving hug to Gulf because that’s just the generous kind of guy he is. 

He waits until Mew wants him because he doesn’t know how to ask for what he wants. 

Because he’s never had to.

Because he never needed to.

So he sits on the couch, trying his best to sleep or pretend to sleep or pretend that he’s not silently watching Mew. Silently willing Mew to come over to him, to take care of him instead of talking to everyone else in the room.

Gulf furrows his brows at the group, he feels a new feeling crawling under his skin, this one he can recognize easily- jealousy. Much like many other feelings in his life, he’ll ignore it. Ignore the way it creeps into his mind as he watches Mew laugh with one of the new actors. The new guy -whose name Gulf hasn’t quite figured out yet but he’s sure but the end of this workshop he’ll know it- nudges Mew as he talks before they laugh more. He’s pretty sure whatever it is they’re talking about isn’t that funny. Jealous isn’t something he’s fond off and he knows that he shouldn’t be jealous in the first place and if asked he’ll pretend he never was or is. Because that’s just who he is.

But now he knows he’s frowning and pouting and he knows he’s got the 'Type' eyebrow furrow. He’s not doing a very good job at pretending.

“You guys sulking again?” Mild leans against the other side of the armrest looking down at Gulf - who is just a little bit startled by his sudden appearance but tries to hide it by pulling his blanket closer to his face. 

The soft smile on Mild’s lips felt like a mom's smile at their kid. Honestly, sometimes Mild could feel like a mom, teasing him and Mew but he always looked out for them. Well, Mostly Mew. But then Gulf knew the two had been friends for a while, even before Tharntype.

“No,” Gulf says smiling because he knows it’ll make Mild feel better even if it might be somewhat fake.

Mild fingers run through Gulf's hair, gently scratching at his nape before pulling away. “If you’re sure.”

“Yeah. I’m just napping until it’s time to start.” Gulf shot another smile up at Mild and he seemed to take the hint because he chuckles and walks away. Gulf reaches up and rubs his hand through his hair a few times, over the place that Mild did. 

He has nothing against Mild it’s just not the hand he wants on him, it feels not right but he’ll never tell Mild no. Mild is touchy, not like Mew but moderately so and he has a good soul so Gulf won’t stop him. But right now, it’s not right, it’s like a weird aftertaste. Uncanny. He brushes over his nape before curling back into the couch, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily. 

He blinks them open as he looks across the room. Mew was still laughing with them, Mild seems to have joined it. He could easily go over there too, maybe even lean against Mew and he knows that will prompt Mew into action. If he played his cards right he could sit in Mews lap and Mew would play with his tummy. It was a plausible strategy and a tempting thought. 

He closed his eyes again.

The itch seems to make it’s come back now that he’s lacking in distractions. Is this Mew withdrawal? The lack of Mew interaction for a few days because of scheduling and now when they can see each other Mew is busy without everyone else but him.

Stupid Mew.

Stupid habit.

Stupid itch.

He thinks about calling Mew over and demanding interaction but that thought is fleeting because he is neither that stern in his ways nor is he that courageous to ask for what he wants when it comes to touching.

He won’t admit that he needs the touch because that’s not the kind of person he is. 

He won’t admit that he misses Mew may be more than Mew misses him sometimes. 

He won’t admit that when they can’t talk he feels sad, that he purposely bought some of the cologne Mew uses so he can feel closer to Mew. That sometimes he sprays it on his blanket so he can pretend that Mew is there when they haven’t seen or talked to each other in a while. 

He won’t admit that he likes having Mew close is more for him than Mew. 

Mew does it because he can, Mew touches because that’s his personality. While Gulf stays by Mew because he feels safe, warm, protected, and... loved. Gulf needs Mew close.

The itch is getting to him. How long has it been since he’s hugged Mew. Years? No, they saw each other a few days ago, but it was for a live event and they didn’t get much time outside of the event to interreact. There was hugging but everything was strictly monitored so the hugs were… lackluster. And days ago.

Maybe he didn’t give himself enough credit though, because he’s been more active in the touching department.

Gulf sees flashes of different events and interviews they’ve done recently. He remembers vaguely asking to be in Mews lap while they laid on the bed. And even later that same interview when he silently willed Mew to pull him into his lap by mental strength alone. The Mc seemed pleased by their interactions so no one thought anything was weird. Because he was discreet, like a ninja. There was also that one MC that had been flirting with Mew, and Mew wasn’t touching him, Gulf remembers nudging Mews arm to get him to place his hand on his knee.

Gulf feels a little proud of himself at the progress he’s made. That’s two active times that he wanted to touch and he requested it and was given it. Maybe the habit hasn’t just created the itch for more but also given Gulf power needed to request it. 

Will he one day be as touchy as Mew?

He scoffs softly, Impossible. He shakes his head against the couch, very aware that no one else can hear his thoughts but he needs the physical reminder to himself that Mew is Mew and he is Gulf and he will never be touchy like Mew but that’s ok because Mew compensates for him. And he’d done well in those instances. Progress.

He felt the couch dip next to him, the were no words so he assumed it was one of the staff. They probably assumed he was asleep. He peaks over his shoulder, and frowns, it wasn’t one of the staff. It was Mew and Mew was on his phone. 

Mew was on his phone, not hugging Gulf even after all the time they spent apart. Rude. Gulf felt his bottom lip puff out -as if he hadn’t been pouting for the better part of the last half an hour. How dare Mew to respect his ‘sleep’ and not bother him like any respectable human being would. Mew was supposed to curl up with him and hug him. 

Gulf let out a tiny huff but Mew stayed focused on his phone. He let out another one, a bit louder. When still no response came he gathered his inner strength that was built on the soul thought of Mew touching him and pushed himself off the arm of the couch so he could lean against Mew, head settling on his shoulder. He sighs at the touch. Better.

Gulf pat himself on the back. That’s three times now he’s initiated the touch. What an improvement. He’s going to be a pro at this soon if he keeps up this progress. He might even be able to rid himself of that itch because he’ll be able to get hugs when he wants them one day.

“I thought you would be asleep.” Mew's voice was soft and rumbled through Gulf's ears.

“I am.”

Mew chuckles before wrapping his arms around Gulf and pulling him down into his lap, leaning against his chest. Gulf looked up at Mew, ignoring the sputter in his heart as Mew smiled down at him. It was smiles like that where he wanted nothing more than to drag Mew to the nearest bed and take a nap with him. He was pretty sure there might be more to his thoughts than that but for now, he’s settled on napping in Mews warmth. 

"Since when do you sleep talk?"

"Since always." Gulf smiles up at him.

"Guess I'll have to hang around more when your asleep and find out." Mew flicks his earlobe softly as he scrunches his nose. Gulf finds it adorable. He often finds it annoying that Mew can be so sexy and hot but also just as equally cute and endearing. It's human nature but it's still annoying. And he wants more of the duality all the time.

"You should. Maybe every night will give you enough data for your research."

Mew flicks his nose before chiding softly. "Am I writing my dissertation on your sleep patterns now?"

"Of course, what else could you possibly want to write about?" Gulf smiles shyly up at Mew scrunching up his nose much like Mew did earlier, he could feel the blush on his cheeks. "Plus it's a win-win situation. you get to research and sleep all in one."

"And I get to be with you."

"Yeah," Gulf breathes out locking eyes with Mew, "With me."

Mew’s smile was soft and endearing and just the right amount of lip curvature to make his lips still be pouty. It was the kind of smile you want to see when you wake up, the sun shining in, next to someone you love as you lean in for a kiss. The kind of kiss that makes you want to smile the same way.

It’s gross and all too much and Gulf finds himself wanting to lean up into Mew. 

He wants that kiss. He wants that kiss so badly in this moment. The morning kiss with _that_ smile. He gulps. Mew’s eyes darken, something sparkles inside them as Gulf feels fingers tug softly at his ear lobe. 

It would take nothing for him to fix the distance between them. He thinks for a moment that he might actually do it. Might actually lean up to capture those awaiting lips that he knows are sweet like cotton candy. Those same lips he’s kissed many times for a camera and a few times off-camera for practice but never just because they could. Never because they wanted to without any other reason. Never like this.

Gulf can feel his body humming in anticipation. The beacon in his head blaring at him, surrounding him with the sirens call, telling him to succumb to his human wants. To be strong and ask for things he wants.

He almost does too but the moment is shattered by Mame and the director calling for the cast to gather to start the workshop. 

Mew pats his shoulder helping Gulf sit up so they could join the rest of the group on the other side of the room. Mew stays close, a hand on his back or around him but doesn’t look at him. Eyes swiftly looking anywhere but Gulf eyes for most of the workshop. Eyes only meet when they need to.

But Gulf doesn’t comment on it. He just glances at Mew every chance he gets and wonders if he’ll be able to sum up the courage to get that moment back during a time when they might actually be able to fulfill it.


End file.
